


Warzone; Paradise

by kirschtrash



Series: Musical Musings [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Hurt/Comfort, Im kinda sorry, Inspired by Music, M/M, POV Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Angst, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7778629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirschtrash/pseuds/kirschtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith promised Shiro that he would be willing to break down the walls he had built around his mind, break free from the chains he might have bound around him in fear, and let him in if it meant that he could understand him better. He was willing to strip himself completely, so bare and vulnerable, if it meant that they could fight their wars together.</p>
<p>But was Shiro brave enough to do the same?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warzone; Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> HERE'S a Sheith fic I promised as a celebratory gift bc my exam results were freaking amazing✨ It has angst and hurt, but I promise u it has a nice ending ;u;
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/kirschtrash) and [tumblr](http://kirschtrash.tumblr.com) if u wanna!
> 
> (NOTE: THEY ARE OF THE SAME AGE IN THIS FIC. NOBODY'S OVER-AGED OR UNDER. SO HAVE FUN~)

Inspired by[ this song](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=C_3d6GntKbk).

* * *

 

 

Life isn’t what they call a fight. It isn’t a brawl over morals, a fist-fight over who is right and who is wrong. It isn’t some tug of war between the light and the dark, it isn’t some game where the only winner is justice. It isn't something you win with just a handful of self-righteousness.  
It’s all a bloody war; a war with not enough tact, and too much damage. It’s just another sick battle, a fight that makes no sense, a brawl that has no end, a fist fight that finishes with countless casualties. It’s a fight where not even something as pure as justice can do anything. In this war, there is no winner; there is only the survivor.

Life is a war. And Shiro was losing.

He could only hold onto his positive thoughts for so long, for the negativity would just consume him moments later. He could grasp at the frail edges of the light inside him, holding on tight, refusing to let go, refusing to _give up_ \- but then the darkness would come rushing in like a tidal wave, drowning him in sheer emptiness, a void that just never ended. He could hide, or he could run; he could defend himself, or shout a battle cry and commence an attack of his own. But he could only sustain so much damage. He could only fight for so long.

Life is one long fucking war. And he couldn’t win it alone.

He had to let someone help him. He had to let someone else hold the wheel, he had to let someone else lead the next attack. He couldn’t hold the fort alone; he couldn’t hope to survive the next wave of oppression on his own - otherwise he would break. He would lose. That was what his mind would tell him, after all. Over the dreadful sounds of war raging in his mind, he’d hear some trails of thought: 'Let someone help you'. 'Don’t do this alone'. 'It doesn’t have to be this way - get help'. 'Let someone in'. _Please, let someone in._

For a painful moment, the words would make sense. For a single fraction of a second, he’d almost obey his begging thoughts, willing to undo all the chains that bound him in fear, smash down all the walls he had built around himself, and just break free. For a moment, he’d be ready to open himself up, raw and vulnerable.

But then that reminded him of his fear - _vulnerability_ ; to be easily attacked, to be simply hurt - to reveal all that makes you who you are, only for others to step on you as if you are nothing more than the dirt beneath their shoes. To unveil all your secrets, all your desires, all your darkness to someone, only to receive nothing but cold, cruel rejection in return.

Shiro feared vulnerability. He was scared of being attacked for who he was, and he was terrified of rejection. The cold fear was enough for Shiro to rebuild the walls around his mind, building them twice as tall and just as many times thick; it was enough for him to bind all of his secrets and desires in chains as strong as steel. It was enough for him to throw all of his feelings, all of his needs and all of his weaknesses into the deepest parts of his soul for none to see. For none to find.

Hence, it was enough for Shiro to fight his war on his own. The fear was enough for him to hide all his pain behind a strained yet somewhat even smile, and a simple _‘I’m fine’._

But then, he met Keith.

A fire, he was. A fire no one could bear, a brutal heat that seared at anyone who came too close, who played with him, who touched him carelessly. He was wild, and reckless - a man who’d make decisions off of first instincts and not by thinking them through first. He could not be tamed, he could not be held back. Like wildfire, he just could not be controlled.  
But there was an honesty to his heat. There was an authenticity to him, a realness that just got ridden under crude words and rock-hard, hollow stares. There was a truth to his fire; Shiro could hear it when he’d talk to him about anything other than a mission. He could hear it in his laughter, when he’d shrug off the weight of defending the Universe as a sworn Paladin of the Red Lion off of his shoulders. He could feel it when their skins would brush against one another, when they would hold each other, when they would feel one other. He could taste it, too; he could taste it when he kissed Keith the first time, long and slow and _breathtakingly_ soft underneath the starry fabric of space.

Back then, Keith didn’t promise a forever. He didn’t promise that they would love each other as long as the Universe thrummed with life. He didn’t promise a sappy, tearful promise of never forgetting each other even if a million light years stood in between the two of them. He only demanded one thing: _honesty_.

The mere mention of that made his heart skip a beat; only Keith could want something so simple, so important, so fucking priceless. Only he could be so willing to bring down his own walls, let go of his own guards, and undo himself if it meant that he could learn the real Shiro. Keith wanted to share his battle with Shiro - only he could be so fearless.

But then, his heart would fall to his stomach, because he could not break down all of his defenses just to let someone in so easily. He was willing to share his feelings, his thoughts, and even his weaknesses to him without hesitance, and without restraints. But he couldn't give away his secrets. He couldn't let him fight his war - he couldn't. The fear of before had taken over him entirely, as if he were possessed by some cruel demon; a monster who loved whispering just one thing to him: was he ever going to be so brave so as to let his walls crumble for someone who was ready to strip all their shields for him?

But Keith insisted on nothing less. _God_ , he was so persistent. He’d whisper the promise against his skin, he’d say the words hidden within plain speech so that nobody could tell, and he’d shout the words out without resistance when nobody watched them. He'd never hold back on what he demanded. _Don’t hold anything back, Shiro,_ he would say _. Don’t fight alone, because you don’t have to. Let me in._

But Shiro _couldn’t_ , he told him that. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he just fucking couldn’t. Fingers would be quivering when he’d reason with Keith, and they would be grasping his black and white roots when Keith would still insist. Their voices would rise, they woukd start waving fists at each other, until both of them would scream, fighting their own little fight on a bloody battlefield.

_Let me in,_ Keith would insist. _No_ , Shiro would answer. _You have to,_ Keith would say. _I don’t_ , Shiro would reply. _You can’t fight this goddamn war on your own - let me help!_ Keith would shout.

And Shiro once screamed: _don’t you see? I can’t._

Back then, Keith didn’t scream back, not like he had expected him to. He didn’t shout, he didn’t balk. He didn’t cry, heart broken and despairing, and he didn’t run away. Back then, he had run over to Shiro instead, grabbed him by his collars, slammed him against the nearest wall, and kissed him breathless.

Shiro fought it, he tried to. But _God_ , there was something in the way he bit his lower lip hard, there was something in the way he growled against his lips, pulling him impossibly closer. There was something in the way he just kissed him harder, harder, harder. Without even a breath’s pause, he grabbed him by the waist, held him so tight he could feel his bones beneath his fingers, and tasted the passionate fire burning in him. He couldn't hold back - he lost himself within him entirely.

It was then that Keith had broken apart, breaths heaving and heart pounding. It was then that he had looked into his eyes deeply. Shiro still remembered what he had said, as clear as crystal:

“I chose to be a Paladin for a reason - because I knew that no matter what happened, _you’d_ be fighting beside me. I _chose_ you because I knew you’ll help me fight my war. I can’t bear to know that you’re fighting your own fight even when you’re fighting mine - _I can’t_. Can’t you see, Shiro? I can’t let you break, not alone.”

The fear clawed at his insides, and threatened to overflow out of his mouth. He tried to deny, he tried to resist, but then Keith interrupted him with another kiss, much softer and shorter than the last one.

“Shiro, please,” he had whispered, fingers running through the short hairs on the back of his head. “I’m not saying you have to give me the wheel. I’m not saying that- that I’ll fight the war because you’ll just perish. All I’m saying is just- just let me in. I might not be of any great help, considering my own war. But all- all I want is…”

Pressing their foreheads together, he continued his promise:

“All I want is you to trust me. No one has to suffer alone, no one has to break on their own. I want us to fight together.”

Shiro could feel the fear sitting inside his chest, ready to just _deny, deny, deny._ But there was something in the way Keith’s grey eyes glistened with unmoving determination, that made Shiro stop himself. There was something in the way his thumbs ghosted over his wet cheeks, that made him stop resisting, stop fighting for once. There was something in his presence that made his fear fluctuate.

Keith made him believe something;

They might have to fight a bloody, pointless war all their lives. But they didn’t have to do it alone.

They could etch their own light within their darkness. They could stop fearing attacks, and start defending one another. They could build their own happiness out of sheer despair.

They just might be able to build their own paradise within a warzone.

**Author's Note:**

> I HOPE U LIKED THIS I'm open for any type of criticism or comments! Just let me know down below!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy my voltron fics, bc I plan to do big things for this fandom!


End file.
